Beloved Country
by mokatster
Summary: Susan mourns for Narnia. PC movieverse.


**Beloved Country**

**by: mokatster**

Summary: Susan mourns for Narnia. PC movieverse.

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia; any dialogue is directly from the Prince Caspian movie.

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She didn't feel it, at first.

Splashing through the surf, breathing deeply once again of the sweet Narnian air, she was able to laugh and shout with joy just as loudly as she had before. She was able to revel in the fact that she and her siblings were finally back where they belonged. For those first few moments, it felt as though they had never left.

She heard the boys shouting as they raced into the ocean, Lucy shrieking as Peter splashed her mercilessly. As Susan joined in the water fight, she felt joy rush through her like a flood. She wanted to shout with laughter, grab her sister's hands and whirl around until they were both so dizzy they collapsed on the ground in a giggling heap. This was perfect—this was _right_.

Then Edmund mentioned ruins, and the joy flooding through her body trickled away, replaced with curiosity and confusion.

Where were they?

The mystery was solved, with a few hours' exploration. But it was not solved to Susan's content, nor did their discoveries sate her desire to find out more; indeed, her confusion only intensified. All around her were crumbled walls and pillars, the remains of a glorious and majestic castle that had once adorned these cliffs—_their _majestic castle. Surrounded only by the remains of that magnificent edifice, the familiar magic she had always felt at the Cair had disappeared. This was not the Narnia she had known. This was not the kingdom she had left.

She started to feel it then. Something was terribly wrong. What had happened? Who had dared to do this to Narnia, to their beloved country?

With quick use of her trusted bow and her older brother's dive into the bay, a Narnian was saved from execution. The situation was explained by their flustered and bewildered new friend, though briefly. It sufficed to know that immediate action was needed; so with a quick gathering together of weapons and armor, the five of them set off to put things to right. Her siblings appeared to be slightly worried, but mostly eager to defeat this great new threat to their beloved Narnia.

For Susan, however, the terrible confusion remained. How could this have happened? Why on earth hadn't Narnia fought back and triumphed, as she always had before?

In the rowboat, she pondered: the Cair was in ruins, beloved Narnians were being exploited by Telmarines, the Trees weren't dancing—

"How could Aslan have let this happen?" Lucy wondered, despairingly. Susan pursed her lips. Yes, that was another thing wrong: Aslan wasn't here. He hadn't always been physically present during their long reign, but He had always been _there_. One was never away from His presence—not in Narnia, anyway.

Susan closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She couldn't tell that she was in Narnia with her eyes shut to her surroundings. She could smell the air, but—she couldn't feel _Him_. It was His breath that made the Narnian air sweet, His presence that brought the Trees to life. This Narnia without Aslan seemed—faded.

Where was He?

"Aslan?" Trumpkin echoed, incredulously. He scoffed and looked out over the water, his eyes scanning the cliff faces on the far shore. "Thought he abandoned us when you lot did."

Susan froze, forgetting to breathe. Lucy went very still, and Edmund stiffened. Peter stopped rowing and turned to look at Trumpkin. The note of accusation in the dwarf's voice had not been lost on any of them.

Abandoned. Narnia felt abandoned by her monarchs.

Susan felt a cold weight drop heavily into the pit of her stomach. Narnia _had_ been abandoned by her monarchs. She felt it, with this realization—anger and fear, with an undercurrent of bitterness. Lion's mane…is this what their joyous and vibrant Narnia had been reduced to?

Susan heard the determination in Peter's voice as he declared their intention to set things straight. But instead of being filled with similar resolve, as she usually was when her older brother spoke with such a tone, Susan found her confusion being replaced with a heavy dread and a cold trickle of fear. How could they help, if Narnia no longer believed in them?

Did they deserve the Narnians' trust? Did they even dare ask it of them?

They arrived on the mainland, and Susan helped the boys drag the boat onto the gravelly shore. They all paused in their work when they heard Lucy call out a cheerful greeting. A large, black Bear, who seemed to have been dozing a little ways off, rose up on his hind legs in response.

"It's all right," Lucy soothed, continuing forward. "We're friends!"

The Bear didn't answer; his only response was to lower himself back on all four paws, with much grunting and snorting.

Susan frowned. That was rather rude of him…but then, she amended, the black Bears had never been as well-mannered as the grizzlies.

Trumpkin made a sudden movement, and Susan looked at him, startled. The dwarf had tensed, ready to fight. He called out a warning to Lucy, cautioning her not to move.

Lucy turned back, confusion evident in her face, and the Bear charged. Susan gaped in astonishment for a split second as Lucy fled back toward them, now terrified.

Immediately, Susan drew her bow. "Stay away from her!" she challenged. Usually, thankfully, the mere threat of violence was enough to stop the rare possibility of bloodshed among Narnians. She heard the boys behind her scrambling frantically for their swords. The Bear continued to pursue her little sister.

Then Lucy tripped, skidding on the loose gravel. The Bear still didn't stop.

But he would, Susan knew. He was just playing some sort of game—Narnians didn't kill each other. As if from far away, she heard Edmund pleading with her to shoot, saw both him and Peter rush by with their swords drawn.

But her fingers were frozen on the bowstring. The Bear would stop, he was going to stop—

Lucy shrieked as the Bear rose up on his hind legs before her—

And then, an arrow shot through the air, embedding itself in the Bear's chest. With a roar of pain, the Bear collapsed.

Susan blinked, shocked. The Bear was dead. Who—how—?

She glanced to both sides before turning around. Trumpkin was lowering his bow, looking grim. With an unreadable glance at Susan, he began to trudge toward the fallen Animal.

"Why wouldn't he stop?" she asked numbly, aghast at what had happened. She had been so sure; she lowered her bow, her hands shaking.

"I suspect he was hungry," Trumpkin grunted without pausing, as though it should have been obvious. The boys hesitated only a second before hurrying after him and helping Lucy to her feet. Susan followed, more slowly.

The Bear had just been a bear.

He was wild.

There were wild animals in Narnia. Edmund and Peter sounded completely flabbergasted at the prospect.

"You get treated like a dumb animal long enough, that's what you become," Trumpkin declared grimly.

Susan's mind reeled. Talking Animals—their beloved cousins—had become so distant as to turn wild? Such a horrifying prospect had never occurred to her before. Lion's mane, Trumpkin had sounded so matter-of-fact about it! What had happened to their beloved Narnia?

"You may find Narnia a more savage place than you remember," the dwarf continued, as if answering Susan's unspoken question. Was she just imagining the accusation in his voice this time?

He knelt by the bear and began to salvage what meat he could for a meal. The others watched, appalled, but Susan turned away, blinking back tears, unable to stand the sight of blood, even from a regular animal. Her stomach was heavy with guilt, her heart with sorrow.

Things weren't at all how they had been before. Really, after all she had seen and heard thus far, it was easy to understand why: they had abandoned Narnia, and so Narnia had abandoned them.

She could feel it, now so strong she could almost taste it, mixed in with the anger, bitterness and fear: pain. Narnia had suffered, deeply, and she and her siblings had helped bring it about.

She couldn't really blame the Narnians for their lack of faith in the High King and the rest of them, or the Great Lion. Why maintain the hope that your monarchs would return after abandoning you to ruthless invaders? Why keep faith in Aslan, the One who crowned said monarchs, when He was obviously busy elsewhere?

When she overheard Trumpkin instructing the boys on the proper technique to skin a bear, she burst into tears. She wept unrestrainedly for their beloved country, for all it had been and for all they had unknowingly forced it to become.

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**A/N:** This actually came to me while I was watching Prince Caspian, trying to find inspiration for another piece I've been working on. Funny how that works, eh? I briefly considered having this from Lucy's POV, but for once Susan flowed more easily than her sister. Just as well--I've been wanting to get more inside Susan's head anyway. :) Hopefully I did her justice!

Thanks so much for reading! Please let me know whether you liked this or not! Any and all reviews are very much appreciated. :)


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